Jaime didn't know what to think. Ronsel and Dennis should have returned hours ago. The sun has long since set and he and his brother- in-law have been searching to no avail.  No hardened expression could shake the worry that made its way on his face. He was walking. He could barely see beyond his own hand. The endless darkness of the southern night. Not a star in the sky. Ronsel would say it's bad luck to be walking like this. 

Bright beams of light filled his empty void. If Jaime did know any better, he would have thought it was the good Lord and his angels coming to take him away. Instead, the car pulled to the side. Men clothed in white cloaks stepped out of the car. Jaime blinked in confusion. That was until his dear old Pappy held out his hand. 

“What the hell’s going on?” Jaime blinked.

Pappy's face was still. “Come with us”

Jaime had no choice but to comply. Jamie would never forget the rain. It poured and poured until it weighed down his eyelids. They approached a place Jamie knew all too well. This small saw mill held many beautiful moments between him and his dear mate. But now, as the men around him don their white hoods, Jaime's heart and feet still. If not for his Pappy's firm hand pushing him along.

Inside were a group of men in similar white hooded garb. In the middle of the mill was a man. He has a burlap sack over his head, a noose  around his neck and his hands tied behind him. He was strung 

up from a rafter, his tip-toes barely touching the ground. One of the white hoods held the other end of the rope.  Another man, Orris,  stands nearby with a shotgun. In the midst of all this madness was his son. The poor boy was dry heaving. Trying his best to look away but another cloaked man keeping his body firm. Dennis looked up and immediately pulled.

“Daddy! Please!” Dennis cried. Pappy raised a simple hand and the man let the boy go. Dennis wrapped his arms around him tightly and a soft broken sob escaped his throat.

“What’s going on here, Pappy?” Jamie demanded. 

Pappy paid him no mind. He looked at Orris. “Take it off.” 

Orris ripped the sack off. Jaime's heart fell to the floor. Ronsel, his love, was beaten lumpy. Swollen eyes here and busted lip there.  His gaze, full of fury, turned as he advanced toward his own father.

“Good Lord. Turn him loose!” Jamie barked.

“Shut your damn mouth!” Pappy retorted.

“Like hell I will. Turn him loose, dammit.” Jamie did nothing to hide the visceral reaction that racked itself through his body. His scent on edge which did nothing to quell his son's terrified face. He motioned to approach Ronsel but was only stopped by the gun being turned on him. The alpha scowled at that.

“You best listen, son.” The man, Sheriff Thatcher,  warned.

Jaime was far beyond caring. “I ain’t your son. And I suggest  you either use that thing or point it elsewhere.”

Pappy had taken things far too far in Jamie's eyes. He had known all his life that Pappy was a bigot. As bigoted as an old white man from the south could be. He was the reason why he and Ronsel had to make their home far from this place. Despite this, there was still some wondering pang in his heart that his Pappy wasn't this low. That his father  wasn't this type of man. 

Pappy curled his lips “What was your son doing being paraded around with that nigger?”

“That man has permission to do as he pleases.” Jamie snapped.

Appalled gasps and whispers sounded around the filled saw mill. Jaime wished he could see their faces. He wanted to make a mark of every low life cone headed man who dared to inflict harm onto his mate. To drive a bullet right through the eyeholes. Even then, he may not be satisfied.

“I should have known about you. I should have done this ten years ago! My son.” Pappy spits on the ground. 

“Display the evidence!” Sheriff Thacker announced. 

Ronsel's shirt, or what's left of it, was pulled away from his body. There, on his lower collarbone was his mark. The mark Jamie remembered so vividly. He gave him that mark not even a week after moving into their new home. Tightening connection it brought around his heart to have his love all his.

And now these racist klans men had him in their clutches.

“You take your hands off him!” Jamie moved to charge at Orris but the gun pointed right between his eyes.

“Shut your mouth, nigger lover.” Orris snarled.

“Leviticus 19:19. “Ye shall keep my statutes. Thou shalt not let thy cattle gender with a diverse kind. Thou shalt not sow thy field with mingled seed.” The penalty for abomination is death.” Thacker announced.

“Now…” Pappy leveled a look at Jamie. “Tell me. Did you claim this Nigger?! Is that boy you hold of Nigger blood!”

Jaime's blood ran cold. His eyes fall towards Ronsel who's own eyes lock solely on his son. Dennis gazed up at his father. Terrified eyes glued onto him. The alpha's hold tightened around the young boy. What kind of man would he be to deny his own son.

“Yes…” Jaime said.

SMACK!

The whole place went quiet. Person's half expected to see the son charge his own father. Alpha on Alpha showdown for the ages. Pappy smacked Jaime. His son.

“You betray your own blood over a nigger?!” Pappy snapped.

Jamie shoved him out of the way. In a room filled with ugly cruel men, he thought of only getting his family safe.  Stokes pointed the gun at Jamie. Jamie stepped up and placed the gun barrel to his own forehead. 

“Do it. Go on.” Jamie dared.

The entire room hangs on the tension for a long beat. Then, quick as a cat, Jamie swiped the gun with one hand and punched Stokes in the mouth with the other. Stokes’s head snapped back and he stumbled backwards and fell. Jamie quickly turned to the man who had the shotgun.

“Let him go. Or I swear…” Jamie growled.

“He won’t shoot. He doesn't have the balls to kill a man up close. Do you, son?” Pappy stepped closer into his line of fire.

“Stop right there. I’m warning you.” Jamie threatened.

“You not gon’ kill your Pappy.” 

Then one of the white hoods charged at Jamie. Jamie turned and shot him in the leg. But that was enough to give the others a chance to rush in.  Jamie squeezed off another shot that misses before he gets tackled. In the subsequent melee, they somehow managed to wrestle the gun from Jamie’s hands.But Jamie punches, kicks and gives everything he’s got, fighting like a cornered animal. But soon, they overwhelm him. And they proceed to beat the living shit out of him. Jamie and Ronsel lock eyes for a moment during the beating. Jaime could hear his son's footsteps and the sound of his struggle flailing against the enrapture of arms around him.Then a kick to the head from Stokes sends him out cold.

Jaime awoke to a cold ice bath being thrown over him. He was bruised, blurry and dazed. But as focus restores he saw a mass of white hoods staring down at him. Among the hoods was Pappy’s face. Jamie recoiled and tried to push him away but his hands were tied behind his back. Pappy yanked him upright and propped him against the wall. Jamie now saw the horror. An image that would continue to haunt even when he old and grey. 

Ronsel hung from a cross-beam, naked and bloodied. 

Crucified.

The struggled rise of his chest was all that indicated to him that he had not become a widow. His son, oh his son, his face was unquestionably lost. The shadow of tears and screams echoed on his face. His hand tied behind his back and bloody gash scared his eyebrows.

“You make one more wrong move these boys are liable to kill you.” Pappy warned.

Jaime glared. “Just let him go…”

“You are in no position to be making demands.”, Thacker warned. The shifting of a gun closer to his temple warmed his cheek.

“Both traitors still needs to be punished.” Pappy started. “Can't go to the police if you had apart.” He traveled across the room. Dennis shifted. “You the boy there, decide how.”

Thacker thought for a moment before nodding. He walked squarely up to the boy. Dennis looked him in the eye. An unwavering sense of defiance and hate eradicated from the young boy's frame. Thacker pulled him roughly. He points a hand up towards Ronsel who hung from the beams.

“I’ll give you a choice. His eyes. His tongue. Or his balls. Choose.” Thacker demanded.

Dennis sniffed. “No…”

Thacker uncovered his hunter's knife. A chill traveled up the boy's spine. “Choose goddammit! Choose or I kill them both!”

The boys remained eerily silent. Thacker motioned for Orris to take his shot.

“Wait!” Dennis called out. 

Thacker paused him. Dennis looked at Ronsel pleading for his father's guidance. Ronsel, through painted features, gives a short but firm nod to his son. Dennis would cry if he had tears left.

“Which is it, boy?”

 Dennis’s head dropped and he mumbled something. The storm outside raged on. The sound vibrating horribly on the old galvanize. The man smacked the boy to speak up.  Squeezing his eyes shut he muttered it again. Thacker turned towards Ronsel with the knife. White hoods held a struggling Ronsel. Stokes grabbed Ronsel by the face and forced his mouth open. Dennis couldn't bear to look while Jaime pulled and rutted against the ground in futile attempts to break free. Ronsel’s strange muffled screams turn into watery mess as Thacker sliced.  Blood spurted from Ronsel’s mouth and stained some of the white robes around him. 

Painting them red.